A CYCLOPS EXPLAINS TO A STRANGER POLYPHEMUS' HOWLS
every so often one of us here goes crazy
even though he has everything he wants
and has it for only a little easy work
walk outside in the morning and the flocks follow
sit in the shade all day and watch them fatten
then sundown a walk back home picking up sticks
as you go and once there brain a sheep
and split it roasted meat fat on your tongue
the flock safe in the pen looking on
a life so good I would live it many times over
if allowed a life of no law no bread
and who would call for wine while the ewes' milk runs?
yes a life so good you almost can't stand it
so good that when the dark sorrow rises
within your breast at brightest fullest noon
or the depthless longing for something you can't name
seizes you like a fit you feel robbed
and wish to find the one who stole your peace
and call him out the violating thief
you might as well shout that no man's done
this to you blame him for everything you feel
howl at your friends and neighbors when they mock
and pathetically throw stones into the sea